


time and hour runs through

by StarryCleric



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Gen, Hurt Caduceus, Hurt Caleb Widogast, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Team as Family, Torture, caleb has Opinions about torture which he gets to express so that's fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-27 10:28:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21390646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarryCleric/pseuds/StarryCleric
Summary: The Mighty Nein are caught off guard and captured one night while traveling across Xhorhas.Caleb stalls for time.
Relationships: Caduceus Clay & Caleb Widogast, Jester Lavorre & Caleb Widogast, The Mighty Nein & Caleb Widogast
Comments: 23
Kudos: 552





	time and hour runs through

Caleb should have known that things were going too smoothly. The group had been working so well together, crossing through the wastelands of Xhorhas with only a few unfriendly encounters that posed any sort of issue. Even though no one had been too badly hurt in any of their scrapes with the beasts roaming the landscape, they'd been attacked enough that their resources were practically depleted and everyone was exhausted by the time they decided to bed down for the night. Caleb could barely muster up the energy to lay out his alarm spell before half-collapsing next to the fire. 

He was groggy, then, when the alarm spell started shrieking shrilly in the back of his head, sending him shooting up with barely enough time to shout for the others to wake up before a swarm of people descended on the group, armed to the teeth and out for blood. 

Caleb doesn't remember much after that. There was shouting, some distant blasts of radiant and eldritch energy, before an enormous hand grabbed his neck and skull from behind, gripping his hair tight enough to rip some of it out. He barely had time to look up and see the grey skinned face and beady eyes of a goliath man before he was shoved forward. His head cracked against the ground and everything abruptly went dark. 

When the vague shimmers of conscious finally begin to spark at the edges of Caleb's mind, it's all he can do to keep from groaning aloud. Something thick has been jammed into his mouth, and it tastes rancid. He tries to adjust his jaw to spit it out, but it's lodged firmly between his teeth and he can't get it to budge. Opening his eyes sounds like far too arduous a task at the moment, so he settles for twitching his fingers to try to figure out what's happening. His arms have been yanked backwards and bound up with rough cords. His shoulders ache fiercely, but if he stretches his fingers as far as he can, he can feel slightly damp dirt and loose gravel.

At this point, the rest of his senses are starting to come back to life. If he concentrates, he can hear the faint crackle of a small fire a few feet away. The instinctive jolt of adrenaline that shoots through him whenever he feels the wavering heat of any kind of fire is enough to finally give him the motivation to crack open his eyes. 

He is laying a few feet away from the campfire the Mighty Nein had set earlier that evening, his face half pressed into the dirt. On the other side of the campfire, he can vaguely make out the shapes of Beau, Caduceus, and Jester also laid out on the ground. For a split second of sheer terror, he is convinced that his captors have killed them and left their bodies to rot, before he notices that Beau is also tightly bound, that Caduceus is breathing softly, and that Jester's eyes are cracked open as well.

Caleb frantically locks his gaze on her, trying to indicate with just his eyes that he's trying to figure out what's going on. Even though she's not gagged, Jester doesn't say anything, just gives him a slightly terrified look with wide eyes slightly shiny with unshed tears. She gives a pointed look to her left, blinking hard like she's trying to communicate with just her eyes as well.

He follows her line of vision, and his heart starts to hammer in his chest. A group of tall, slightly bloodied people are standing in a group, whispering to each other. It's hard to make out details in the dark, but most of them appear to be drow dressed in dark leather armor, aside from one figure in loose robes and the towering shape of what must be the goliath from before. 

Oh, this is bad. Caleb looks back at Jester, whose eyes are squeezed closed. She's faintly mouthing some series of words, and he wonders if she's trying to cast a spell with her hands tied or if she's praying to her Traveler. His heart lurches, and he suddenly remembers that she has been here before, captured and held with Fjord and Yasha in iron manacles. As he watches her, he notices the faintest trace of a tear track glittering in the firelight.

The spritzing edge of panic that had started to sparkle inside his lungs hardens into something different. Of all the people to be forced through something like this, Jester deserves it the least, and something in him aches that he can't move closer to her to comfort her at all. Glancing around, he cannot see Fjord, Nott, or Yasha, and while the impossibly cynical part of him that's been burned before tries to convince the rest of his brain that they are dead, he forces himself to ignore it. If they are not here, it is just as likely that they managed to escape, and while two of them might argue and bicker over every little thing, he knows that they are both capable people and that nothing brings people together like a rescue mission. 

And, hopefully, Yasha will keep them on task. 

He stills his breathing and tries to look as steady as possible to Jester, who has reopened her eyes and seems to be doing her best to remain calm as well. It's easy to overlook how strong she is, among all the pranks and silliness. Despite the underlying terror that she must be feeling, she does her best to give him a watery smile, like she's trying to reassure him that everything is going to be okay. 

The voice that constantly echoes in Caleb's head, telling him how he doesn't deserve these people or their kindness, surges forward, but Caleb forces it back. He has more pressing matters to deal with right now. 

Glancing at the others, he's a little worried that Beau and Caduceus have yet to wake up. Now that he's had a chance to adjust to the light, he can see that Caduceus's leg is twisted in a way that must mean it's badly broken, and there's an awful black bruise on Beau's forehead that must have nearly caved her skull in. He winces, and wishes for the thousandth time that he knew any healing magic at all. 

Now that the pounding adrenaline in his veins has him more awake, it's easier to feel his way around the cloth gag stuffed hastily into his mouth. He focuses a bit, feeling his way around the edges of it with his tongue. It tastes disgusting, but it's not wedged in as firmly as he thought it was. With a little bit of effort, he bites at the corners of it and manages to shove it in front of his teeth. He glances at Jester, who is watching him with rapt attention, as he slowly and quietly works it out of his mouth. 

"Are you okay?" he mouths at her silently, exaggerating the movements as much as he can.

Jester takes a second to follow his motions, before biting her lip and nodding. 

Caleb looks towards Caduceus and Beau, who still haven't moved. "Are they okay?"

This time Jester hesitates, then shakes her head. "Head wound, and broken bones," she whispers faintly.

Caleb grimaces and shifts his arms uncomfortably. He wants to try to pull himself up into a sitting position, but that would probably alert their captors, who don't seem to have noticed them yet. 

Jester is looking at their unconscious friends, a deep furrow in her brow.

"I can't reach Beau, but I think if I move a little..." Jester whispers. Her voice is so quiet that Caleb almost thinks he's imagining it, but then she shifts ever so slowly. She twists so that her back is towards Caduceus and pushes her arms out. It must be an excruciating position, but Jester grits her teeth and reaches out until her fingers brush against Caduceus's foot. Caleb hears her mumble something under her breath, and there is a dim sparkle of healing green light that emanates from her hands. His leg is still broken, but some of the faint cuts on his face that Caleb can see seal themselves up. 

Caduceus is miraculously silent as his eyes flutter open. He shifts like he's going to pull himself up. Caleb catches his bleary gaze and shakes his head back and forth, trying to tell him to keep quiet. Caduceus blinks a few times, before nodding slowly and letting his head fall back to the ground. 

"Did it work?" Jester whispers, a little louder this time as she pulls her arms back in. Caleb nods at her, and her expression relaxes slightly. Caduceus is looking over Beau with a frown, clearly focused on the dark bruise that mars her face. Caleb doesn't know too much about healing or medicine, but judging by the look on Caduceus's face, it seems serious. At least she's still breathing.

This is far from ideal. Another swell of panic is pushing against his ribs, but Caleb shoves it down again. He will have time to feel panic later. For now, he has to focus on getting him and his friends out of there. 

_ Caleb! Can you hear me? You can respond to this message! _

Caleb jolts as Nott's voice shouts into his head. Jester and Caduceus have turned their concerned glances towards him, and he motions for them to stay quiet. Hesitantly, he whispers back. "Nott, are you and the others safe?"

_ Yes! We made it to the tree line and killed the guys they sent after us. We're working on a rescue but you're so out in the open it's going to take us a while to get into position. _

Caleb lets out a shuddering breath as relief floods through him. "A rescue would be... welcome. And, ah, soon, please."

_ We're coming up with a plan as fast as we can. But... _

Her voice trails off. Caleb waits for her to continue, but as the silence stretches out he puts the pieces together himself. "You need us to buy you some time."

_ I'm sorry Caleb, we just need you to give us a few extra minutes. _

"I will stall as long as I can. Come quickly, though. Beau needs help."

_ We'll be there before you know it. Just a few more minutes. _

Caleb lets the spell end without responding. His two friends who are awake are staring intently at him. He mouths, "Nott is coming," towards them, and they both nod. Jester goes back to trying to stretch her arms towards Caduceus's broken leg again, presumably to try to heal him up as best as she can. 

He's about to risk edging his way a bit closer to Jester, to see if maybe working together could help them loosen up the ropes binding their arms, when a pair of muddy boots moves into his field of vision. Caleb stiffens, and stifles a curse at his own stupidity for not double checking that their captors were still busy talking. 

The person in front of him is the drow he saw wearing the loose robes earlier. He crouches down in front of Caleb, sparing a glance at the cloth gag around his neck but not moving to replace it. 

"Well, well, look who's awake?" He has a raspy voice, like his vocal cords are straining to produce any noise at all. 

Caleb squints at him, and notices the fine lines of scars criss crossing across the neck, like someone tried to slit his throat but didn't quite finish the job. He decides not to respond. The longer he keeps this man talking, the longer Nott has to move into position. Behind the man talking to him, the other three figures and the goliath have moved to stand around Beau, Jester, and Caduceus. 

"And you - you weren't trying to cast spells behind my back, were you?" The drow turns towards Jester, who has frozen in place. "I thought you were all out of ammunition, but apparently I was wrong. And we can't have that going on, can we?" 

"Wait," Caleb says, trying to pull the drow's focus back onto himself, but it's too late. His fingers shift in the air, and with a spray of blue sparks Jester's eyes roll up into her head and all the tension slips out of her. If Caleb didn't immediately recognize the pattern for a sleep spell, he thinks his heart would have stopped.

"What did you do?" Caduceus's voice is hoarse as he tries to see what's going on from his position on the ground. One of the men lashes out, driving his foot into Caduceus's back and knocking the air from his lungs with a sharp wheeze.

"She's just sleeping," Caleb says, forcing his voice to remain even. He lets the shiver of terror as the drow magic caster hauls him into an upright position run through him before firmly repressing it. Now is not the time to feel fear, now is the time to _ stall. _ "She'll wake up soon enough."

"It might take longer than you think. None of you were in a very good condition to begin with." The drow reaches around Caleb to untie his wrists. For a split second Caleb considers trying to scramble away from him, but the warning squeeze the drow gives him as he yanks his arms forward is enough to make him pause.

"I should probably begin by introducing myself. My name is Aluin. What can I call you, human?" Aluin is still very close to Caleb's face as he resumes retying Caleb's hands, this time bared in front of him. 

Caleb doesn't really want to give this Aluin any ammunition over him or his friends, but he does need to keep his focus solely on him, so he answers, "You can call me Widogast."

"Widogast. Unusual name. Especially in this part of the world." Aluin settles back a bit and pulls out a thin, but wickedly sharp looking knife. "Now, Mr. Widogast, you may be asking yourself why my group has decided to stop you here on your way to... wherever you were headed."

Caleb looks Aluin over. There's something about his voice, the pretentious air he's putting on, like he's talking down to someone who he barely thinks deserves his attention. When it clicks in his head what's going on here, he wants to groan. Aluin talks like how he thinks a threatening person _ should _ talk, but Caleb has dealt with professionals. This kind of intimidation is new to Aluin, and he's going over the top with it. 

"That is a reasonable question to ask, ja." Caleb is just as casual, bordering on bored, which seems to put Aluin back on his heels. He doesn't ask for more details, even though he is very interested in what faction of the world has decided to capture the Mighty Nein tonight. Aluin doesn't seem to realize what he's given away by revealing he doesn't know where they were headed and, by extension, who they are. 

Aluin frowns briefly, before continuing on with his threatening monologue. "You see, my group of friends here has been following you for quite some time. We were waiting in the shadows, tracing your path across the fields, waiting for the right moment to strike once you had depleted yourselves for the day."

Caleb sighs. If the situation wasn't as serious as it was, he would have rolled his eyes. Aluin has just told him that his group is not up for the challenge of tackling a fully powered group of adventurers. If he were trying to threaten a prisoner, he wouldn't spend so long revealing his methods or lack thereof. 

"So you were aiming to capture and not to kill?" Caleb asks. "I assume this is about money, yes?"

Aluin clears his throat. "The money was a factor, yes. The other side of this is, of course, the thrill of the hunt. The excitement of the chase. And you were _ such _ an interesting mark."

This situation is bordering on the absurd, but Caleb can't stop thinking about Beau bleeding out into the dirt or Jester lying entranced under Aluin's spell. Despite the flowery descriptions, there is an undercurrent of truth to Aluin's words. He may be a beginner punching above his weight class, but there is an element of satisfaction in the way he seeks to cause pain. 

"What is your plan, then? To auction us off to the highest bidder?" Caleb keeps the edge in his voice to a minimum. He's still stalling for time, and Aluin might be a fool, but he doesn't like the way he is rolling the knife in his hands. 

"I am the one asking questions here," Aluin growls. Caleb doesn't mention that Aluin actually _ hasn't _ asked any questions yet, since he seems to be growing more agitated by Caleb's monotone responses. "Now, as we were following your group across the plains, I had a thought. A group of powerful fighters like yourselves _ must _ have some sort of allies. People who would pay to see them returned... or people who would pay for their heads."

Caleb doesn't question the convoluted logic of this, as long as it keeps Aluin talking a bit longer. He considers mentioning that they are agents of the Bright Queen herself, but he has a suspicion that it might not go over too well with a criminal in the Dynasty like Aluin. Especially if he's looking for a ransom or reward for their deaths. 

"Widogast," Aluin says, switching the knife back and forth between his hands. "Is there anyone who would pay for your return before we deliver you across the border for a better price?" When Caleb doesn't say anything, he leans forward so he is just inches away from Caleb's face. "This might be your last chance to save your own skin before we take you to the Empire."

Again, Caleb isn't really sure how Aluin is planning on transporting the four of them, especially once Jester and Beau wake up again, but his silence is keeping Aluin's attention occupied. 

There's a shift in Aluin's expression, like he finally realizes that Caleb isn't going to give up anything quite so easily. He brings up the knife so Caleb can see the firelight glinting off its sharp edge. Caleb sucks in a sharp breath as Aluin traces the point of the knife across the fine bones of his right hand and the tendons of his wrist, but doesn't react beyond that. 

"You know, I've heard that injuries to the hands of a mage can be debilitating if they're not treated soon. Could even keep them from ever casting again," Aluin says. Now that Caleb’s made some sort of reaction, he’s doing a better job of keeping his tone genuinely light and practically conversational, as though he isn't threatening to dissect Caleb's hands. 

Caleb purposefully keeps his gaze locked on Aluin's, careful not to let his hands twitch underneath the knife. This is not the worst thing he has endured. As he thinks this, he imagines there is an undercurrent of energy that briefly sparks along the old scars that cut deep into his forearms, like his own body is remembering how much worse things could be. In fact, Caleb is surprised that Aluin has yet to bring the bared scars up in any way. If their places were switched, past scars would be the first place Caleb would focus his attention.

Aluin's eyebrow twitches as he stares back at Caleb, trying to goad him into a reaction with just the knife and his little threatening speech. Caleb almost wants to laugh. If Aluin thinks waving a blade around and scary words are enough to provoke a reaction, he's going to be waiting a long time. 

It seems like Aluin comes to the same conclusion around the same time the thought crosses Caleb's mind. Aluin breaks their staring contest to look down at where his knife has landed at the crook of Caleb's elbow. Once more, the unbidden thought that he would never lose track of where a blade was or exactly what he was doing with it if he was trying to pry a reaction from a prisoner flits through his head, but he doesn't have a chance to voice a word before Aluin punches the point of the knife into the meat of his bicep.

Caleb hisses automatically, before switching to a slightly strained wheeze of laughter. If he wasn't sure before, he certainly is now: Aluin is an amateur. Passing up all those relatively exposed tendons and nerves for a fleshy area like the upper arm? He was beyond those sort of mistakes when he was sixteen years old. 

"And what, exactly, do you find funny about this situation?" Aluin says, twisting the knife a bit before yanking it out with a slightly unnerving, but by no means frightening spurt of blood. His voice is even, like he expected Caleb's reaction, but it doesn't take much for a practiced eye like Caleb's to pick out the waver at the end of his sentence and the way his eyebrows are drawn together. It's a dead giveaway that Aluin doesn't like where the situation is going.

“Hey –” Caduceus starts to say, but another one of the men grids his heel into his back as a warning, and he snaps his mouth shut. 

When Caleb doesn't respond, Aluin switches the knife to his other hand and stabs it into Caleb's other arm. The pain flares and Caleb lets out another automatic yelp as blood starts spilling out down his arm, but he can tell that the cut isn't as well executed as the other one. He makes a mental note that Aluin favors his left hand. 

"I believe I asked you a question, Widogast." 

His fingers are twitching around the knife. Caleb bites down on his tongue to keep from responding. He knows very well that once he starts talking it will be much easier for Aluin to eventually wring any sort of response out of him, and he plans to keep silent as long as possible. His arms sting where the knife sliced into them, but not enough for him to open up. 

He wonders if Nott is in position yet. 

Aluin leans back, trying for a casual pose. Caleb raises an eyebrow, picking out the way Aluin is frowning and the frustration creeping onto his face. Behind them both, the fire crackles and snaps, sending a spray of sparks scattering up towards the dark sky. 

"I suppose if you're going to be difficult, we'll just have to try something a little bit different."

There's an edge in his tone that Caleb doesn't like. When Aluin looks away to bark something in Giant to the other members of his group, he tugs his wrists against the ropes. Some of the blood trickling down onto the ropes gives him a little bit more movement, but before he can give his arms more than a cursory movement, a scuffling noise on the other side of the fire catches his attention.

It takes him a second for his eyes to adjust to the light, but when he does his heart starts pounding. The enormous goliath has hauled Caduceus to his feet and wrapped his arms tight across his chest. It's unnerving to see Caduceus looking small compared to anyone, but the heavily muscled goliath must be almost a foot taller than him. Caduceus appears almost skeletal against such an enormous backdrop. 

It's too dark to make out much detail, but Caleb can see that Caduceus's ears are pressed flat against his skull and hears his choked off noise of protest at the rough treatment. His broken leg hangs at an odd angle and he clearly won't be able to tolerate putting any weight on it whatsoever. 

His stomach flips as he makes the connection to where this situation is going. 

Aluin's mouth quirks up into a sinister half smile as he watches Caleb go pale in the firelight, and before Caleb or Caduceus can say anything in protest, he barks out another word in Giant. 

The goliath grabs Caduceus's broken leg and _ twists _ it to the side.

Caduceus _ shrieks, _ an awful jagged noise ripped from his throat that Caleb has never heard from him before. Caleb lurches instinctively, throwing himself forward to try to get to the goliath hurting his friend, but Aluin catches him by the shoulders and presses him back. 

“There we go, that’s more like it,” Aluin says, clearly revelling in Caleb’s startled reaction. He doesn’t look away from Caleb when he finally says, “That’s enough for now.”

The goliath pulls his hand away from the broken bone quickly. Caduceus sags in his arms, panting heavily. 

Caleb stares at him, feeling significantly more numb and frozen than he had a few moments before. Caduceus's eyelids flutter as he sucks in rattling breaths, and now that Caleb is paying attention he can see blood starting to soak through the green material of his pants. The broken bone must have splintered through the skin of his thigh. 

"Now it looks like you're paying attention," Aluin says, resting his hand on Caleb's knee in a deceptively gentle way. "That wasn't very nice, was it?"

Caleb swallows down the insults that spring to mind, refusing to look Aluin in the eye and instead keeps his focus on Caduceus struggling to catch his breath.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Aluin frown. The hand moves away from his knee, and Aluin hisses, _ "Again." _

Caleb's eyes widen, and he barely has a chance to choke out a word of protest when the goliath wrenches Caduceus's leg in the other direction and Caduceus screams again. This time the goliath doesn't let up right away, and the agonized gasps coming from his friend as he desperately tries to push the goliath's hands away from him make Caleb want to curl up and die right there on the spot. 

The abrupt silence when Caduceus finally passes out is almost worse than the screaming. The goliath lets go of him entirely, and he crumples to the earth with a heavy thud, his head cracking against the ground inches away from Jester’s motionless body. 

Caleb’s earlier judgements of Aluin as being in over his head fly right out the window, and are replaced by a smoldering heat of anger that flares in his heart. The only thing keeping him from lunging forward and trying to kill Aluin with his bare hands is the shuddering rise and fall of Caduceus’s chest. 

Nott’s voice flickers in his head, a note of fear running through it. _ Caleb, if you’re alive, please respond to this message. _

“All still alive,” Caleb mumbles. Aluin won’t be able to hear him, but he might be able to see his lips moving. “For now.”

_ Give us just another minute more, Yasha is trying to angle in from the north. _

Caleb lets the spell fizzle again, not wanting to risk Aluin noticing any spell work and giving away the plan. 

"You didn't like that, did you?" Aluin says in a simpering tone that's over the top in a way that Caleb finds insulting now. 

"No, I did not like that," Caleb says, and even he is surprised by the malice dripping from his voice. "In fact, I found that to be a particularly stupid move."

Aluin had been smiling, bringing his knife up to his mouth like he was going to lick it or something else equally moronic. That smile drops quickly. "Excuse me?"

"You wanted me to talk, ja? Well, I'm talking now. Rating your skill. Evaluating your... performance, one might say." His words get stuck in his still raspy throat, but are otherwise sharp enough to cut through steel. 

"That's not what --"

"That is what it is about now." Now that he knows to look for it, Caleb sees a flicker of moonlight glinting off metal to the north. Aluin seems perceptive, and he has to keep his attention from straying, so Caleb adjusts his posture, shifting from a crouched prisoner to the ram-rod stiff pose of a well-trained Vollstrecker. Aluin stiffens as well, seemingly confused about what is going on and the abrupt shift in conversation.

"First of all, I have to note that presumptuous tone is not threatening in the least, and the meandering elements of your conversation would make it hard for anyone to follow, much less any sort of prisoner dealing with a head injury and the adrenaline following a surprise attack."

"What?"

Caleb doesn't pause. "I would have no idea what exactly you were asking of me if I was anyone else. Did you want a list of my friends or my enemies? You seemed to be asking for both, which seems unhelpful for anyone in this scenario."

Aluin shoves his knife forward to press it against Caleb's neck, and a scatter of sparks sprinkles out of his other hand, presumably as some sort of warning.

"If anyone should be worried about their tone, it's you, Widogast," he snarls.

This time, Caleb openly rolls his eyes and tries not to swallow against the blade. "You missed the jugular by a centimeter. If you are going to threaten me, you must do it properly."

The knife moves down a bit, and Caleb hums disapprovingly. "Not there. I meant to the left."

"Enough of this," Aluin says, standing abruptly and gesturing to the others in his group who are still hovering over the collapsed bodies of his friends. "Get one of the others up, and someone else can take care of this one."

"It's too late for that, Aluin," Caleb says. He's rambling now, attention half focused on the slight shifting movement he can see approaching out of the corner of his eye. 

"Too late for what?" He doesn't turn around, but he also doesn't give any other orders.

Now Caleb can see it in his posture: wounded pride won't let Aluin move on from this. He lets the words flow out of him instinctively. 

"You went too big, too fast. They will be in no condition to answer questions at this point. This is why you start small: the fingernails, the tendons of the wrist. Burns are also always a good choice. You can stay concentrated around localized burns. Do you think he will be able to focus on you and your unintelligible questions around a shattered femur?" He nods towards Caduceus, even though Aluin won't be able to see it. 

Nott's voice in his head is a blessing. _ We're in position! Get ready to duck in three... two... _

"You chose the wrong group to hunt today, my friend," Caleb says, and throws himself to the side. 

A crossbow bolt shoots above where he had just been sitting and embeds itself deep into Aluin's neck. Aluin lets out a garbled howl and drops to his knees. He looks over his shoulder and spits out a mouthful of blood, just in time for Nott the Brave leap over Caleb's prone form and fire the next shot through his right eye. He collapses in a twitching heap inches away from the smoldering fire, and Caleb is seized by the desire to kick him into it. 

Across the way, Fjord and Yasha have leapt into the clearing from opposite sides, flanking the group of captors in the middle. Fjord is gathering green energy in his fist, ready to send it streaking at the group while Yasha's eyes flash with fury and she falls on the goliath with a brutal swing of her sword. 

"Get my hands untied, then go wake up Jester," Caleb gasps out, feeling the drop as he pushes away his surgically calculating headspace. A slight sense of revulsion bubbles up in his throat at how easily he'd fallen back into his old patterns of thinking, but he doesn't have time for that now.

"On it!" Nott says, her nimble fingers making quick work of the knots around his wrists. She leans up, firing off another bolt towards the drow before scrambling to shake Jester awake. 

Caleb stumbles to his feet, a rush of blood to his numb legs making black spots fly in his vision, and he nearly collapses again. He shakes his head and rushes forward to where Caduceus is.

"Caduceus?" Caleb says, dropping to his knees and tapping on his face. Caduceus has gone a ghastly white color and the dark shadows under his eyes almost make him look like he's already a corpse, so Caleb is very surprised when pink eyes blink open to meet his own.

"Beau is very bad off," Caduceus croaks. His voice is shredded and Caleb can barely make out what he's saying. "Bring her over here."

"I – ja, okay," Caleb says shakily, torn between trying to stem the blood trickling slowly out of Caduceus's leg and just doing whatever Caduceus says is important. 

Fjord shouts nearby as one of the drow lands a strike with his mace against his ribs, which sends Caleb careening into action. He pushes himself towards Beau, who is lying very still in the dirt. Now that he's up close, he can see the awful purple black bruising that traces from her forehead down to her neck and is all of a sudden terrified that her skull had actually cracked.

"Caduceus, I don't know if I should move her, her neck –” Caleb says, turning back to where Caduceus is still laying.

Caduceus sucks in a breath and nods. Then, before Caleb can stop him, he braces his arms and tries to drag himself forward. Caleb stutters in protest, reaching out to help haul him in closer. Caduceus does his best, choking off his own wet gasps of pain as Caleb helps maneuver him closer to Beau. It looks excruciating, but Caduceus doesn't do more than breathe heavily and clamp his hand around Beau's knee. 

There is a powerful flash of light, the scent of recently tilled earth, and lichen crawls up Beau's body. It heals wherever it touches before flaking off and crumbling into dust, and a few moments later the life-threatening injury around her head has faded almost entirely.

Beau shoots upright, almost colliding with Caleb. She presses a hand against her slightly bruised forehead. "What the _ fuck _ is going on?" she half shouts, yanking at her tied wrists.

"Captured by assholes, tried to torture us, Fjord needs help," Caleb rattles off. He reaches forward and sends a sizzle of fire through the knotted ropes, burning them away enough for Beau to pull herself free. 

Beau looks startled, trying to process everything Caleb just threw at her, but Caleb knows she's smart and quick, and a second later she nods and pushes herself up to her feet. She wavers for a moment, reorienting herself to being upright, before staggering off in the direction of the fight, where Yasha is standing over a bloodied goliath and Fjord is surrounded by the last two fighters. 

"Hey, save one of those bastards for me!" she says, jumping into the fray. Caleb sends a firebolt streaking after her and the drow she drops on. 

Caleb collapses back to his knees beside Caduceus, who has curled himself around his injured leg again. "Why did you not heal that up right away?" he asks, trying to get a better look at the break.

"Beau has more punches... than I have spells," Caduceus says slowly. He places a hand on his leg and a fainter pulse of light seems to at least stop the bleeding. He sighs, ears drooping as some of the tension goes out of his shoulders. "Besides, Beau would be dead if she bled out into her brain." 

His stomach clenches in a jolt of fear as he considers what a close shave she'd had. "I suppose that is fair," he says. There is a sickening squelch as Yasha finally cleaves off the goliath's head and Beau whoops in support as she drives her elbow into the drow's nose. 

"Jester's okay!" Nott shouts. She and Jester are both on their feet, Jester looking a bit unsteady but relatively whole. When she sees Caleb and Caduceus are both alive, she gives them a quick smile, then blasts a ray of radiant energy towards the stragglers of the group.

It doesn't take much to thoroughly wipe out the remainders of their captors after that. After being taken by surprise, they didn't stand a change against the incensed rage of the Mighty Nein. When the last drow finally keels over under a barrage of blows from Beau's fists, they stumble back together, hauling the bodies into a pile and picking them over for anything valuable or identifiable. While Yasha and Fjord ransack the packs for anything they'd stolen, Nott finds a handful of gold pieces and a pair of healing potions that get passed over to Caduceus and Beau, who are looking ashen and exhausted once the adrenaline wears off. Without anything else to really go on, and feeling thoroughly wrung out and battered, they fall in a pile together around the fire, breathing heavily and barely able to keep their eyes open. 

Caleb pulls out his recovered spellbook, flipping to the pages with the Tiny Hut inscriptions. "I think it would be prudent to set this up, no?" he says. There's a faint murmur of agreement from Yasha and Fjord, who are the only ones who didn't fall asleep immediately. 

He extricates himself from Nott's grasp and hauls himself to his feet. Despite the weariness that has sunk deep into his bones and his overwhelming desire to get to bed as soon as possible, he takes a second to look over the group. Beau is passed out across Fjord's stomach, with Yasha resting her head on Beau's legs. Caduceus is laying on his side a few inches away, with Jester curled against his back. Nott has shifted from where she was holding him moments ago, and now has an arm thrown protectively around Jester's shoulders. When Caleb finishes with the hut, he'll be able to easily slide in next to her.

For a moment, the voice that claws at the back of his mind, whispering to him that he is a terrible person who has done terrible things, that he will never fix his mistakes or atone for his sins, is muffled underneath a wave of gentle affection for these people. It is the least Caleb can do to keep them safe for the night, so he pulls out his components and begins casting the spell.

**Author's Note:**

> caleb loves his friends y'all


End file.
